


chestnuts

by Waywarder



Series: Simply Having an Ineffable Christmastime [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Slow Dancing, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:35:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21738454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waywarder/pseuds/Waywarder
Summary: In which there is some dancing, and Crowley comes up with a plan.Part of Drawlight's 31 Days of Ineffables challenge!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Simply Having an Ineffable Christmastime [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558789
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	chestnuts

_“Chestnuts roasting on an open fire…”_

“You know, I’ve never eaten a chestnut,” Crowley admitted, absentmindedly. Up until that moment, the scene was pretty idyllic: the demon with his head in the angel’s lap, the angel softly stroking the demon’s hair. Aziraphale had requested Christmas music, so Crowley had pulled up some random playlist on his phone. And there they had sat, being holly and jolly and fucking adorable, in Crowley’s opinion, until bloody Nat King Cole had opened his mouth, prompting Crowley to open his.

“You know, I’ve never eaten a chestnut.” And Crowley was practically catapulted off of the sofa by the power of Aziraphale’s combined shock and enthusiasm.

“Never eaten a chestnut?!” Aziraphale was on his feet. “But, my dear, it’s a Christmas tradition!”

Crowley, in love though he was, rolled his eyes at the angel’s incredulity. Aziraphale knew full well that Crowley wasn’t exactly up to speed on every Christmas tradition in the book, but, fuck, if Aziraphale didn’t get especially indignant about the snack-related ones. 

“So’s pretending to enjoy your relatives, angel,” Crowley countered. “Look, I’m all in on this holiday nonsense, but you’ve got to be more patient with me. And stop knocking me off the sofa everytime you find out I haven’t had a gumdrop or something.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it again with a click. A bit of color appeared in the angel’s cheeks as he offered a hand to help Crowley up.

“I’m sorry, Crowley,” he murmured, casting his eyes down just a little. “I recognize that… well, that all of _this_ must be a little much sometimes…”

“Hey,” Crowley snarled as gently as possible, reaching a hand up to touch Aziraphale’s face. “Nothing about this… nothing about _you_ is remotely too much. Can’t get enough, in fact. Okay?”

Aziraphale smiled against Crowley’s hand.

“Alright.”

And Crowley pulled Aziraphale in for a kiss, Nat King Cole still singing in the background.

_“And so, I’m offering this simple phrase…”_

“I love you,” Aziraphale draped his arms around Crowley’s neck. 

“Love you too,” Crowley’s arms found their way around Aziraphale’s waist, and, just like that, they were something-like-dancing there in Crowley’s flat. “Besides, come Halloween, revenge will be sweet.”

“I look forward to it.”

Halloween was, what? Ten months away? What a stupidly insignificant chunk of time compared to six thousand years, and yet… the promise there that Aziraphale would still be awkwardly swaying with him in his living room for the next ten months made Crowley break out in an impossibly besotted grin.

“What’s so great about chestnuts, anyway?” Crowley wanted to know.

Aziraphale’s face brightened, as Crowley had known it would. The angel liked food, he liked knowing things, and he certainly liked sharing things that he knew about food. 

“Well, they’re not terribly lovely when they’re raw, you know,” Aziraphale pulled back enough so that he could see Crowley’s face as they swayed. “But they’re quite nice and sweet when they’re cooked.” 

“Where do you find them?” Crowley felt quite daring, and made an attempt at twirling Aziraphale out and back into him again, dancing now with Aziraphale’s back against him.

“Originally, the chestnut tree was introduced to Europe by Greece…”

Crowley buried his face against Azirphale’s hair to keep himself from laughing out loud and hurting the angel’s feelings. Of course Aziraphale would interpret “Where do you find them?” as a prompt for a comprehensive oral history of the chestnut tree. And, of course, Crowley listened to every word, because, as we have established, he really was quite smitten.

“And, do you know, some of the nicest ones I’ve ever had were from a little street cart in New York City,” It sounded like Aziraphale was finishing up. 

“New York City, hmm?” Crowley hummed against Aziraphale’s neck. 

Aziraphale twisted around in Crowley’s arms. “Why, you old serpent, is that the start of a scheme I hear in your voice?”

Well, of course it was. Crowley responded with an ill-advised and rather flourish-y attempt at dipping Aziraphale that ended with the pair of them on the floor. 

It’s fine. It’s where they were headed anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, dear Lord, I guess I'm sending them to New York for a spell. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! It means so much to me!


End file.
